Until Next Time
by SinfulSanctuary
Summary: [The mini-series version.] The hand on my heart clenched painfully. I stiffened and gritted my teeth. My eyes stung and I couldn't breathe. I was there. I had reached the point where it hurt so bad I didn't know how to live for one more second. War. We do what we can to find comfort and hope.
1. Room 9, Hog's Head Inn

**Room 9, Hog's Head Inn**

_New acquaintances, new truths and a new war._

* * *

"May I have a word?"

I was off in my own little world, and started at the request. Especially since it came so close to my ear and the voice was so deep it felt like it vibrated inside my skull. Snapping around, I saw the dark skinned man from... What was it? The Auror office? Carlton Shackles, wasn't that his name?

"Of course," I said politely, and gestured with my hand into my office.

It wasn't really _my_ office, but it was a room and it was empty at the moment. Darla was home sick, Gregory had time off, and Heston, Paula and Walter had gone to lunch. It was small, and worked more or less like a storage area for all the papers and files that was being worked on and not ready to be archived. All of us preferred to work in the larger room next to the office, which was really supposed to be a reception area. I couldn't for the life of me understand why _we_ needed a reception area.

The tall dark man followed me inside, and I frowned when he closed the door and cast a spell on it before reaching out for my hand in greeting. I took it hesitantly, not sure if I should be worried about his paranoid slash alarming behaviour. "Long time, no see," he said in a friendly manner. "We meet under dire circumstances again."

I was confused. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't place him, and certainly not in a way that warranted the friendliness he showed me. He must have seen my confusion, because he hurried to explain.

"I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, of the Auror Office. We worked together briefly after Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban."

It took a split second for it all to come back to me. As an Azkaban Security Official I worked with the Auror Office, but I didn't really bother to remember every Auror who passed through our office. They didn't want to get to know me or my colleagues, so I didn't bother getting to know them.

But it was true, I had worked with Kingsley Shacklebolt after the embarrassing escape of Sirius Black. Shacklebolt had been in charge of tracking Black down and recapturing him, and I had been the one investigating how he could have escaped. Black was still at large, but the investigations were over, and the Aurors only relied on the occasional tip from witnesses.

I nodded to signal that I remembered. "Dire circumstances?"

"It's possible you haven't been informed yet, though I suspect you would never have been informed anyway, at least not through official channels and certainly not the whole truth. There have been a very unexpected and tragic ending to the Triwizard Tournament. It is a long story, but this is not the place or the time to go over it." He glanced around the room, as if he expected an audience to be listening in. "Let's just say for now, that your help and skills may be needed in a grave matter. I would like to explain this to you more thoroughly, but we should do that somewhere else, somewhere more private."

"What can be more private than here?"

"The walls may have both eyes and ears, and this is a delicate matter."

I was baffled, and – truth be told – wary of this man.

"I understand that I sound very cryptic. But from previous experience, you seem like a level headed, fair, and capable person. You are familiar with Azkaban, and may be a great asset to this cause. If you are willing to hear me out, we can meet later today. I have an address written down here." He showed me a small folded piece of parchment. "If you do not show up, I will not bother you about this again. Read the time and place, burn the parchment, and speak of this to no one."

I stared at him. He had seemed very down to earth last time I spoke to him, but now he seemed a bit addled in the brain.

"This has something to do with the Triwizard Tournament?"

Shacklebolt nodded. "That, and the future of the Wizarding World."

"I will think about it," I said.

"That is all I can ask." He seemed immensely relieved. "Take this. Memorise and burn. Speak to no one." He handed me the parchment and was out the door before I had time to blink.

_Room 9, Hog's Head Inn, Hogsmeade._

_9 o' clock._

* * *

Hog's Head was my kind of place. Not that I liked it very much, but it was the kind of place people with my kind of job were expected to hang out in.

There wasn't much traffic there that evening, being Monday and a warm summer evening. I scanned the small crowd, but did not see Shacklebolt. I didn't really expect too, as I was asked to meet him in one of the Inn's rooms.

I had weighed back and forth all day about whether or not I should show up. When three of my colleagues came back from lunch, they informed me that they had heard whispers of a death at the Triwizard Tournament, and that the Minister and the headmaster of Hogwarts weren't seeing eye to eye about something concerning this.

The latter sounded very strange to me and was the second reason I decided to meet Shacklebolt. The first was that he had said I was familiar with Azkaban and that may make me a great asset. For the protection of Azkaban and my interest in keeping control of the prisoners and the Dementors and everything else concerning the prison, I wanted to know what he needed me for. He could ask me to compromise the security there, and I was _not_ going to do that.

Room 9. I knocked gently on the door.

"Enter," a deep voice came from within.

I opened the door and stepped inside. It was just as dark and grimy as the pub. A single bed with grey covers stood in one corner. A desk stood against one wall, and a table with three chairs against another wall. Kingsley Shacklebolt occupied one chair, and – to my great astonishment – Albus Dumbledore sat in the other.

"Good evening," Dumbledore said, smiling faintly, a twinkle in his eyes. He gestured for the third chair.

Feeling a growing anticipation, I closed the door and joined them around the table. "Good evening," I said and crossed my legs, nodding at each of them in turn.

"You are very curious as to why you have been asked to come here, am I right?" He gazed at me over his half moon spectacles.

"I am. Shacklebolt was very cryptic."

"I'm sorry about that. But the situation is very delicate, and becoming more so every day," Shacklebolt said. "I'm grateful you decided to come."

"I will be honest with you," I warned. "I only came because my sole interest in life is to maintain the highest possible security at Azkaban. What you said," I inclined my head to the Auror, "about my familiarity with Azkaban being an asset to you, caused me to want to know more. If you are wanting me to give you inside information that may compromise the security there, I will make sure the Auror Office are one Auror short quicker than you can say _Expelliarmus_." I said this calmly and with a straight face, looking right into Shacklebolt's eyes, meaning every word.

Dumbledore chuckled. "You have chosen wisely, Kingsley! She will be of great help to us, if she chooses to join."

I snapped my head towards my former Headmaster, and glared. When it came to my job at Azkaban, not even the powerful Dumbledore would keep me from my duties, and I had no regrets by glaring at or threaten him or his friends.

"Your obviously fierce protection of Azkaban is exactly what we need. We have no intentions of compromising the prison, in fact, one of our greatest interests are making sure it stays safe and well warded. Albus, if you would explain our situation."

Internally, I shook my head in confusion. I was intrigued, but understood nothing. Though they should most certainly not know this.

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes turned instantly serious. "Voldemort has returned."

My reaction to this, I could not hide. The name itself made me gasp, but the two words following had me letting out a frightened sound between a scream and a moan. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The old man closed his eyes and shook his head sadly. "Lord Voldemort has returned, very much alive," he then repeated, eyes opening and conveying the truth in them.

I opened and closed my mouth several times, I uncrossed my legs and crossed them again. Finally, I found my voice. "I'm not sure I believe you. Please explain."

"The circumstances around his return are very complicated and links together many situations. What set this in motion, was the escape of Sirius Black."

"_I knew it!_" I hissed furiously.

"No no, Black is not involved in the way you believe." Dumbledore waved his hands to emphasise the point. "I think it best if I can explain everything to you first, and then any questions or comments you have can be addressed when I am finished. Is that alright with you?"

Though he asked politely, I understood it to be an order. So I nodded.

"Sirius Black did not commit the crime he was sentenced for. Peter Pettigrew framed Black and feigned his own death. Black found out where Pettigrew was, and escaped to – as he himself said – commit the crime he was sentenced for. For the sake of hindering more escapes from Azkaban, I wish to inform you of how Black escaped, but that is not the most important thing you need to know tonight.

"Pettigrew got away, and followed a lead to Albania, where rumour had it Lord Voldemort lay in hiding. Pettigrew helped his master regain a sort of physical form and while biding their time, they came across Bertha Jorkins."

I opened my mouth wide in shock, understanding coming to me at once. I had heard about Jorkins' disappearance.

Dumbledore nodded at my reaction. "They learned about the Triwizard Tournament being held again and they learned that Barty Crouch Jr was not dead and living in hiding in his father's house."

At that I couldn't help myself. "That's impossible! He died in his cell shortly after he was imprisoned!"

"His mother died in his cell. She was already dying and they traded places with the help of Polyjuice Potion." I was about to speak again, but Dumbledore held up his hand to silence me. "Pettigrew and Voldemort travelled back to England, and made plans to put Crouch at Hogwarts. Alastor Moody had been hired as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and the day before he was to start, they kidnapped him, and Crouch traded places with him. For a whole year, Crouch has taken Polyjuice Potion. For a whole year, he has kept Alastor trapped in his own travelling trunk. For a whole year, I am sad to say he deceived us all. Even I, who should have known him better.

"Crouch tricked the Goblet of Fire to accept two champions from Hogwarts. Thus making sure Harry Potter was magically bound to compete or suffer the consequences. He guided the boy through, making sure Harry did well and would win. Crouch made a Portkey out of the trophy in the last task, and cursed and schemed to make sure Harry would be the first to touch it."

Now, Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Harry being the good person he is, beat Cedric Diggory with a small margin, but offered to share the victory. Both touched the trophy and was transported to a graveyard in Little Hangleton. Waiting for them, was Peter Pettigrew and Lord Voldemort. Diggory was murdered, and Harry was used in a most foul way to help restore Voldemort to his full body and power."

Dumbledore seemed to have some difficulty continuing. I never thought I would see the day when the headmaster of Hogwarts had to blink away tears. But now, he did, and swallowed slowly. "Harry fought for his life, and managed just barely to escape with Diggory's body.

"Now, Fudge does not believe Harry, or me, when we say that Voldemort has returned. The Minister is turning a blind eye to the gruesome reality we find ourselves in and I have found the need to reassemble The Order of the Phoenix."

It seemed that was the end of the story, because a deafening silence followed. I didn't know what to say. I didn't want this to be true. But one just didn't joke about something like this. I had to make sure. "You are certain about this? You-know-who is back? Truly?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"You are on office duty this week?" Shacklebolt asked.

"I am."

"When will your Azkaban rotation start?"

"I will be patrolling there next Monday."

"I am sure you will see a great change in the Dementors," Shacklebolt explained. "They are like Voldemort, and they will sense his return. He will try to recruit them, and that's where you come in."

"Many of the Order members that fought in the last war have joined us again. But sadly, many of them are dead. As the Ministry is refusing to see the truth, we have to do everything we can to work against Voldemort and his Death Eaters," Dumbledore said. "Kingsley here is a new member, and I asked him if he knew of anyone at the Ministry who would be able to see the truth and help us in this monumental task.

"Your position as an Azkaban Security Official can help us make sure no one escapes Azkaban and you can help us understand the Dementors. You can be our eyes and ears at Azkaban where many of Voldemort's Death Eaters are. We offer nothing in the means of safety. Working with us will be dangerous. What you do must be kept secret. You will in essence be working against our very Ministry. But we are fighting. We are fighting in a war that may well kill us all. We must do everything we can to end this."

"I will join you," I said with absolute certainty and without hesitation.

"You will be given time to think this through," Dumbledore kept explaining. "I do not expect you to make your decision tonight. But I must –"

"I will join you," I interrupted him.

"You are certain of this? You do not need time to consider?"

"No. I– The Minister–" I wasn't sure how to explain myself. Instead, I kept it simple. "I believe you and will fight."

A smile broke out on Dumbledore's face, his eyes twinkling again. "Thank you. I must press on the importance of secrecy. The Minister will not be kind to anyone who works with the Order or are revealed as being on my 'side'. And it is imperative that Voldemort does not know how hard we are fighting against him. Because the Ministry does not believe he has returned, I believe he will lie low and work in the background. The less the Ministry and Voldemort knows about our work, the more good we are able to do."

"I understand, Professor."

"Please, call me Albus. We are, after all, colleagues from now on."

I nodded. "Albus."

"We have our next meeting on July 1st. The location of our headquarters are written on this." He held out a piece of parchment. "The house has been put under the Fidelius Charm, and I am the Secret Keeper. Read the address and memorise it."

My hands trembled slightly with excitement and nerves as I accepted the parchment. It seemed ceremonial to me, the way he gave it to me.

_The headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix can be found at 12 Grimmauld Place, Islington, London._

To make sure I would remember it, I read it through at least ten times. Then I closed my eyes and fixed the sentence in my mind's eye. When I opened my eyes, Dumbledore – Albus – looked expectantly at me. I gave the parchment back, and started when it burst into flames the moment it landed in his hand.

"We will see you on July 1st at six then?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now, I should get back to Hogwarts." Albus stood up and held out his hand. I stood too, and shook it. "I look forward to working with you."

"Likewise."

"Kingsley."

Shacklebolt nodded gravely, and Albus swept out the door.

I should have left too, but I sat down again and felt the weight of all the new information hold me down. Sirius Black was framed. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back. Barty Crouch Jr and Sirius Black had managed to escape from the most secure prison in the world. I shook my head at this. It would be the first thing I had to do – make sure we tighten the security. Any more escapes would be the absolute worst that could happen.

"A lot to take in?"

I had forgotten Shacklebolt was there.

"I was approached by Arthur Weasley just three days ago, and I am still struggling to wrap my head around it all."

"I understood there was still more to be explained?"

"Yes. Albus said you needed to know about how Crouch and Black escaped. You should also know what exactly happened when Black was framed. And there are many details about Pettigrew – who is also known as Wormtail – and how he helped Voldemort come back. You should be informed of it all, and you will. But it is late. Everything will be explained in full at the meeting this weekend. It is our first official full meeting, and you're not the only one who will need to be informed about everything."

"But I should start working on adding to the wards and protections at Azkaban right away!"

"You can still do that, just do it subtly."

"Can't _you_ tell me how they escaped? You were in charge of finding Black."

"I haven't been told myself yet."

This irritated me. But he was right, I could still start working on it.

"Very well then. I will see you on Saturday."

"Goodbye and good night." Shacklebolt stood and offered his hand. I shook it and left the Auror in the dingy room.

I slept poorly that night. Impatience to get started kept my mind busy and my dreams full of diagrams of complicated wards and protection spells.

* * *

_Authors Note_

_This is the mini-series version of the one-shot Until Next Time. It will be dark, angsty and hot, be warned._

_I don't know how often I will update this yet. I have about 7 instalments (including this) more or less ready for posting, and large portions of drafts that haven't been properly edited and placed on a timeline._

_But I will post it regularly until I'm ready to start posting the revised version of Lunar Phases Part 1. I've set a date for that in my calendar, but I won't tell anyone, in case I can't make that deadline. Until then, review and enjoy this journey into my unknown OCs psyche :)_


	2. Meeting

**Meeting**

_Do not knock. Your wand will let you in._

* * *

A house appeared right in front of me. Grimmauld Place numbers eleven and thirteen slid noisily to the side, to make room for number twelve. It hadn't been easy finding this place, and I had spent the entire morning scouring a map of London. Geography had never been my strong suite, and I refused to ask anyone. Not that I could anyway, seeing as the place was under the Fidelius Charm, and I was not Secret Keeper.

When I had finally found the street in the map, I had spent the next couple of hours pacing my living room, and now my feet were aching.

I stepped up to the house and tapped my wand on the door. It slipped open and I walked inside. A note had appeared on my desk at work the previous day, with a simple instruction.

_Do not knock. Your wand will let you in._

I had barely had time to read it before it vanished, but I understood it well enough.

The sound of many voices met me as I closed the door. I took in the hallway. It was dark, dusty and depressing, and it smelled of being in desperate need of a good airing out. What kind of house was this?

"Hello there!" a voice greeted me cheerily, but very quiet. It belonged to a plump older woman with flaming red hair and a kind face.

"Hello," I said, holding out my hand.

"I'm Molly Weasley," she whispered, shaking my hand with both of hers. "Welcome to the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. I must ask you to be very quiet out here in the halls and in the stairs. Any noise and the portrait of Mrs Black wakes."

"What?"

"The portrait of Mrs Black. She doesn't like us being in her house." Mrs Weasley guided me across the hall and towards a staircase.

"Black? This is the Blacks' home?"

"It is. Sirius offered it to us as headquarters. It needs tidying up, definitely. Then I think it will be quite a cosy home."

I found that highly doubtful, from the impression I had gotten out in the hall. As I was ushered into what looked like the kitchen, my doubts didn't lessen. It was cavernous, with a large fireplace at one end, a long table in the middle, and cupboards lining the walls. Every surface was dusty and worn and it smelled of mouldy food.

"Welcome to my humble abode," said a sarcastic voice upon my entry.

I turned to the voice, and saw none other than the infamous Sirius Black. My instinct was to whip out my wand, stun, gag and bind him, and bring him back to Azkaban. Just barely, I managed to restrain myself. Instead, I walked over to him, held out my hand and presented myself.

"The Azkaban Security Official?" he asked with a dark chuckle. "I'm sorry I caused you so much trouble."

"You and I will have to talk about that," I said sternly. "I will _not_ have it happening again."

"As you wish." He made a bow, and I had the distinct feeling that he wasn't taking me seriously at all.

When Black moved out of my way, I saw several other people around the table. I held out my hand to each of them, some I had never met before, some I vaguely recognised and some I remembered hearing about upon learning their name.

Bill Weasley. Dedalus Diggle. Remus Lupin. Nymphadora Tonks. Elphias Doge. Arthur Weasley.

The conversation flowed loosely between the members around the table, obviously knowing each other to some extent already. I felt a bit out of place, not really having had much to do with any of them before. Doge I remembered having met during a trial in the Wizengamot once. I had been at school with Tonks – though she was several years below me. Lupin had to be the werewolf that had been outed in the Prophet a year earlier.

More people arrived, Shacklebolt, Albus, Minerva McGonagall, Mundungus Fletcher, Alastor Moody, Emmeline Vance, Hestia Jones and Sturgis Podmore.

I had expected many more, but Albus stood up to start the meeting the moment Podmore found his seat.

"Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix. My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I have asked you all to come here to fight Lord Voldemort," he started abruptly, causing many fearful gasps to break out.

"We are a few members missing this evening, but they are out on Order duty already. There's Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. He is keeping watch at Hogwarts, seeing as Minerva and myself are here. He is also preparing for a journey through Europe with Beauxbaton's Olympe Maxime to visit with the giants. Severus Snape is re-establishing his place among Voldemort's followers, spying for us. Charlie Weasley is abroad and doing what he can to spread the word about Voldemort's return and acquiring allies on the continent. Arabella Figg is Harry Potter's next door neighbour and is on his guard tonight as soon as he returns to Surrey."

"And some of you may be curious as to the presence of a few here today."

Albus explained fully the deception that had led to Black's imprisonment, the way he had escaped and what he had proceeded to do afterwards to make justice happen. Unfortunately, that hadn't worked out, and instead ended up being one of the pieces in the puzzle that led to the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. We were then explained the details surrounding Barty Crouch Jr and how he helped bring about Harry Potter's 'victory' in the Triwizard Tournament.

I couldn't help but drift off to think about Black's and Crouch's escape from Azkaban. Both had been very simple, and showed a huge lapse in security that needed to be addressed immediately. There was nothing I loathed more than criminals getting away or trying to compromise the supposed safest prison in the world.

Of course, Black was innocent, but he shouldn't have been able to escape.

When Albus wound down his explanation of everything, he sat down and invited anyone with questions to ask them.

A stunned silence followed, everyone taking in what they just learned. Slowly, Hestia Jones raised her hand and spoke. "Exactly what sort of accident does the Ministry think caused Diggory's death?"

"Cornelius has never said. Either they can't make up an accident that sounds plausible, or they simply won't."

Jones shook her head as Elphias Doge asked for the details of the Ministry's handling of Barty Crouch Jr. This took a while, and after it seemed like there were no more questions.

"We should get down to the issue at hand here," Albus went on. "We are a motley crew of werewolves, escaped criminals, Magical Law Enforcement workers, Aurors, teachers, bankers and many more. We all have our speciality field, and I hope that together we can bring down the greatest evil our world has seen in centuries. We are all allies here, and we help and support each other in this matter. Leave any personal issues behind, and let us move forward.

"There are two things we need to resolve first and foremost. The most pressing matter – be the first to get in touch with any allies Lord Voldemort will try to recruit for himself. There are the giants, werewolves, vampires, and there is also a possibility he will want goblins on his side. As I said earlier, Rubeus Hagrid and Olympe Maxime is already making preparations to persuade the giants to support us, or at least be neutral. They are both half-giants and are in an excellent position to deal with their kin.

"When it comes to the werewolves, I doubt we can persuade them to join our side. The werewolves living in packs around the country are too estranged from our society to see any benefit to join anyone else than Voldemort. However," he turned his eyes on Remus Lupin, "Remus, you know this community better than any of us. I would like you to assess the temperature in the werewolf camps, and report back to us, so we can see how to best move on with that situation."

"Of course, Albus," Lupin said, his voice surprisingly hoarse.

"The vampires are not likely to join any side, as they like to keep to their covens. But Voldemort will try and we must keep an eye on them, and at the slightest sign that they are moving towards the dark side, we must take action.

"Bill, we talked before the meeting, and you feel confident that Voldemort won't be able to gain the trust of the goblins?"

Bill Weasley nodded and addressed the room. "Goblins doesn't set much stake in humans. They see our conflicts as pointless and the only side they are willing to take are with the gold. The goblins at Gringotts doesn't care if you're a Death Eater, the Minister himself, or a child in the streets. They protect their gold and their treasures. But there are deviants everywhere, and I will try my best to find them."

"Now, the Dementors." Albus looked gravely at me. "We must expect to lose control over them. You have not been on the island since Voldemort's return?"

"I managed to visit yesterday," I said. "And they are already restless, or... I would say excited is a better word, if a Dementor could ever feel such an emotion. All the prisoners are aware of You-Know-Who's return too. Of course, the Death Eaters have their burning mark, but they are campaigning to the other prisoners. Those that haven't lost their mind yet."

"Nothing more than can be expected." Albus nodded.

"I have already begun working on how we should further secure the prison," I continued. "Subtly, for now. But I expect my colleagues will understand that something very wrong has happened – they aren't stupid. And now that I know the truths behind our only two escapes, I will make sure it doesn't happen again. Though, if someone – Merlin forbid – should be wrongly accused, we should hope the Wizengamot will take care of that. No prisoner will escape again as long as I am there, guilty or not."

"We all appreciate your commitment, but do not make promises you cannot keep. Now, our second issue revolves around the moving of Harry Potter. For reasons that shall remain secret for now, he must return to Privet Drive." Albus glanced quickly at the pocket watch he had procured from somewhere in his robes. "In fact, he should be arriving home just about now. Arabella Figg is taking the first shift, but as she is a Squib, she will have reinforcements as soon as the meeting is over. I don't expect Voldemort or the Death Eaters will turn up in Privet Drive, but we have to be on the safe side.

"At one point during the summer, we will retrieve Harry and take him here. This requires careful and delicate planning."

Moving Harry Potter wasn't a topic we stayed on for very long, as it was getting late and his guard needed to get to work. We would revisit that at the next meeting. Albus called it to an end, and announced the next date and time.

"I wish I could have made something to eat for you all," Mrs Weasley said apologetically as chairs scraped and cloaks were donned. "Next time, when this place is cleaned up, I'll have a warm meal for you all."

"That will be very appreciated, Molly," Albus said, and took the red headed witch's hand and kissed it gallantly. She blushed, and hurried off to begin clearing out the cupboards for cleaning.

Those that were on guard duty left quickly, but the rest took their time and didn't really seem to want to leave, despite the depressing location. Not knowing these people, I felt a little uncomfortable, so I discreetly made my way out. I felt eyes on me as I left, but I ignored them. Out in the hall, Albus approached me. "How soon do you believe you can start work on the wards on Azkaban?" He was casual in saying it, but I sensed an urgency behind his calm demeanour.

"Monday morning," I said firmly. "Like I said earlier, my colleagues are not stupid. I talked to Walter – uh, he's my partner – when I got back to the office yesterday, explained that I saw there. He's quite anxious to get out there and see for himself. We're all attuned to the Dementors. Everyone will understand soon enough."

Someone came up the stairs and stopped at the sight of us. I glanced behind Albus and saw the werewolf there. The headmaster turned too. "Ah, Remus, excellent." He inclined his head towards me.

Remus lifted his lips in a half smile as he approached us.

"I was just talking to our new friend here about the new wards she intend to rise at Azkaban. I was about to offer my help should she need it. With your expertise, Remus, I think you could help as well."

I frowned at them. I didn't need help. I didn't need anyone telling me how to best secure my prison.

Albus seemed to notice my annoyance. "Remus here was the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts a year ago."

"I know," I interjected sharply.

"He is well versed in defensive magic. I am well versed in... Well, magic." His eyes sparked in humour, but I only raised my eyebrow. "I know you're capable, but if you should ever need an extra hand – an outsider's point of view perhaps – any one of us can help. Isn't that right, Remus?"

"Of course." Remus nodded his agreement, looking a little puzzled, but determined nonetheless.

I ground my teeth and stared at my former headmaster for a moment. "Thank you," I gave in eventually. "I'll keep that in mind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have two nights and one day left to myself before three weeks in Azkaban."

* * *

_Authors Note_

_The second chapter/one-shot/whatever-you-want-to-call it. I just thought I'd warn people now, some of these chapters are going to be very explicit. I will censor it to fit the TOS here, so if you're interested in reading the uncensored version of those chapters, send me a PM, and I will give you the link to it._

_Oh, and the main character in this story is never going to be named and her looks are never going to be described in detail, as I want the reader to imagine her any way they want. I've read stories like that before, and they seem so much more intimate and seem to draw the reader in that much more for some reason, so I'm experimenting with that and hoping it does the same for you._

_Review? :)_

_Until next time._


	3. Restless

**Restless**

_Usually, a rather harmless word._

* * *

Restless was the only word I could find to describe it. Never had that ordinary and rather harmless word inspired so much fear in me. But fear wasn't a feeling I should have. Being afraid meant either giving up everything I had, or losing my soul.

Neither was an option for me.

I had worked hard and sacrificed a lot to be where I was. This job was the only thing I had going for me, the only thing I found myself suitable for. Professor McGonagall had tried to get me interested in different jobs during career advice, highlighting my skills and the subjects I excelled in, but nothing interested me. I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere. I liked keeping to myself, had few friends at school – those that I had were more like acquaintances. When I one day in seventh year learned about this job, I knew it was my only option. So here I was, as one of those in charge of the most dangerous people and creatures in the world, a world preparing for war.

I sat in my office chair, looking out over the railing and down through level after level of cells, filled with murderers, thieves and all kinds of criminals. The Dementors glided past the cells, their dirty robes flowing gracefully around them as if they moved through water. I never figured out why that was, but I guess it added to the creepiness.

Most of the prisoners shrank away in horror as the ghastly guards passed them. Only the fiercest Death Eaters were unaffected.

Voldemort was alive. Azkaban had had two breakouts in its history – one of them in the past two years. The Dementors were slipping through our fingers. If we didn't secure the prison enough to work without Dementors, we might as well open the doors and save everyone the hassle of breaking out themselves.

Nearly three weeks had passed since I learned about what happened at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. For nearly three weeks I had seen the slow change in the Dementors' behaviour. For nearly three weeks, my terror had grown from being almost non-existent, to very _very_ real.

_Restless._ There was no other word for it.

I looked over at Walter, my partner. He had his face inches over a parchment, sketching away at a new level in the wards. He noticed me looking, and lifted his head. Despite the seriousness of the situation and the place we were in, I had to laugh at the black smears on his nose.

"What?" he asked.

I shook my head and pointed to my own nose. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe, but it only made it worse. "Don't bother," I said. "At the rate you're going, your face will be covered in ink at the end of the day anyway. Done with the sketches yet?" I was itching for the new wards to be ready.

"The second level is done soon. But take a look here." He stood up and walked around the desk to my side, brining the parchments with him. "This line here, representing the third level of runes. I'm afraid it might interfere with the second level of runes that tie together with the organic wards that are already in place."

I gazed at the line he mentioned, cross checking with a parchment that was full of runes. "You mean the use of _lagu_?"

"Yes. We've set up _odal_ in a way that will make the fifth level inherit properties from all the levels above, and the sea is such a large part of the organic wards around here, that I'm afraid that water itself might cause... corrosion in both the old and new wards, and maybe even the physical structure of the building. Every droplet of rain might create holes in the wards. Easy to break through." His eyes were large, to emphasise his point. I saw that the whites of them were bloodshot from the hard work we'd put in on the wards every day these last few weeks.

"Huh," I said and looked closer. "I think you might be right. Who set up the _odal_ in this way?"

"Didn't Paula calculate the heritage of each level last week?"

"Go find her," I ordered, and Walter was out of the office before I had time to blink. While he was out, I stared at the drawings and the lists of runes.

There were runes already in the wards, but we wanted to add several new layers to them. There were also all kinds of spell wards, organic wards, and even blood wards. All of them needed to be strengthened and added to. We had to make Azkaban work as if the Dementors weren't there to suck the hope and fight out of the prisoners.

"What's wrong?" Paula was suddenly standing in the doorway, an anxious looking Walter behind her.

I began explaining what Walter and I had done, and then let Walter explain what he had discovered in the layers. Paula's eyes widened as he explained, and when he was done, she bent over the parchments. She leafed through them, setting her finger here and there, muttering. She did this for several minutes, before she put both hands in her hair and screwed her eyes shut. I recognised this as her mind being overloaded.

Paula breathed, and pulled out the parchment with the drawings. "_Lagu_ is Old English, and _lögr_ is Old Norse," she thought out loud, one hand moving across the drawing of the wards, the other deep in her hair. "That's sea and waterfall... Of course that would cause problems... Because the two aren't distinguished good enough!" she finished as a conclusion. "I'm sorry." She looked up at Walter and me. "I should have seen this. Thank Merlin you did before we tested it. I'll stay here today to fix it and recalculate."

"You can't do that alone!" I said. "If we're going to get the second level done this week, I'm staying to help."

"Me too," Walter said.

"Let's get to work then!" Paula said enthusiastically.

The three of us worked long into the night, the summer sun setting outside, clouds gathering and rain occasionally falling on the windows. Being at Azkaban at night was quite an experience. Only our offices were fixed with lights, so as to add to the fear we wanted the prisoners to wallow in. This exact spot in the North Sea was highly vulnerable to storms – raging winds, flashes of lightening right outside the walls, thunder rolling through your very bone marrow, rain that stung against a cold face no matter how warm the summer was.

We had all learned to not be affected by it, while some people might find thunderstorms frightening, it didn't even phase us. But for some reason I felt very relieved when I landed my broom on the Apparition Station outside the wards and Apparated home.

I was worried about the growing fear and the consequences that could follow. This wasn't my first war, but I had been so young last time, that I hadn't fully understood the ramifications. I did now, and had to swallow down a lump of cold fear before I managed to get any sleep that night, despite my body being exhausted. But dreams plagued me – dreams of me falling into the ocean and drowning. It took forever for me to actually drown and all around me in the water I saw elegantly floating robes and heard restless feet.

* * *

_Authors Note_

_This took a bit longer than planned, but here it is. It's a bit short as well, but I expect you'll survive that. It's basically just to show a bit of the work at Azkaban and how things are changing there._

_Notice the banner I've got? Isn't it amazing? It's so bone chillingly amazing!_

_BTW, June 6th was my 6th year anniversary as a Trusted Author over at HPFF!_

_Review? :)_

_Until next time._


	4. Unauthorised

**Unauthorised**

_Dementors are on the loose._

* * *

It was another one of those horribly warm summer days and I was preparing to go to bed early and sleep away the sweaty apathy, when a bright white phoenix appeared in my sitting room. The door from the bathroom was open, and I stuck my head out at the bright light in the corner of my eye. With the toothbrush in my frothing mouth, I listened to the ethereal voice, my eyes growing wider and wider with horror.

_"Extraordinary Order meeting at headquarters in fifteen minutes regarding a possible unauthorised Dementor attack."_

Unauthorised Dementor attack? I must have misheard Albus.

I quickly finished my nightly routine, but instead of laying down blissfully naked in bed, I pulled on the lightest clothes and cloak I found, Apparated to the usual spot, looked around and Apparated onto the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place.

Even from outside, I could hear voices. Feeling both curious and worried, I entered and was almost assaulted by sound. The portraits were shrieking about blood-traitors and filth and shame. Molly, Arthur, Tonks, Kingsley, and Sirius stood in the hall talking loudly.

Molly spotted me and ran over, nearly knocking me over when she put her hands on my shoulders. "Oh there you are, finally! Harry's been attacked by Dementors!" she explained hysterically.

"What?!" I burst out, not understanding how it could be true.

"Dementors atta-" Molly went on, but thankfully Arthur came and guided her gently, but firmly towards the stairs.

"Why don't you go make a pot of tea, dear, for when Albus and the rest arrive?"

She shook her head, but went down to the kitchen anyway.

"What's going on?" I asked loudly, trying to be heard over the cacophony of noise.

Arthur was the came over to explain. "Harry and his cousin has been attacked by two Dementors this evening." He must have seen the disbelief on my face, because he went on. "It's quite true, and seeing as you seem not to know about it... Well, that makes this a whole lot more disturbing. Why don't we go down to the kitchen – Albus should be here at any moment."

I frowned at the information I'd just gotten as I walked slowly down the stairs. It wasn't possible for there to have been an unauthorised Dementor attack. It wasn't possible for there to be a Dementor attack at all. We didn't send out the Dementors to attack people at whim, and it wasn't possible for anyone to do so behind our backs.

Then I thought that I hadn't been at Azkaban in over a week, I was on my second week of office duty and didn't really know what went on at the island right now. A flicker of fear shot through me.

Just as I opened the kitchen door, there was a loud _shut the hell up_ from upstairs, and all the portraits went quiet. The rest of the Order followed behind me into the kitchen, and more and more people arrived every half minute it seemed, until Albus stepped in and the room fell quiet.

"I don't have much time and will make this quick. Mundungus is nowhere to found, so I must see Arabella about this evening's events," Albus began, his face drawn and tired. "Two Dementors were in Little Whinging today, apparently there to attack Harry Potter. Incidentally, his cousin was with him at the time. Harry produced a Patronus, and was expelled from Hogwarts." He was blunt.

There were gasps along the table and chatter seemed just about to break out, but Albus spoke again. "I managed to revoke the expulsion, and he is now only suspended, pending a disciplinary hearing. What was two Dementors doing out tonight?" Albus addressed me directly. His tone felt accusatory, but I supposed it was only grave and searching.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I'm on office duty this week, and as far as we know at the office, no one has ordered the Dementors to go anywhere – not to attack or anything. They haven't been ordered away from Azkaban since Fudge needed them to guard him at the end of the Triwizard Tournament."

Albus looked searchingly at me, and I thought I felt his presence at the edge of my mind. I immediately closed up. He had no right to invade my mind to see if I'm telling the truth.

"Do you have a quick and secure way to contact any of your colleagues that are on Azkaban patrol to see if they know anything?"

"I can check if Connell is home. He won't be suspicious about the late call, he wouldn't mind at all. Secure, but probably not quick."

"I wish I could say you could use the fire here to Floo him, but I'm loath to draw attention to its use. How fast can you get home, call him and get back here?"

I looked at the clock over the door and contemplated. It was half nine. "One hour – two hours?" I tried. I could tell from the look on Albus' face and the rustling from everyone else that that wasn't fast enough. "Look, you don't want me to seem suspicious," I began explaining. "Connell won't mind me popping by this late, but he is as fierce about Azkaban as I am. I can't just go right and ask him, that will make him suspicious. But he's the only one I trust to ask out of the six people on the Azkaban stations at the moment."

"Then go quickly, and I will visit with Arabella in the mean time, and we will all meet back here in two hours. I apologise for the lateness, but this _is_ an emergency," Albus said.

I stood up and rushed out the door to Disapparate. Once home, I summoned an outfit from deep in my closet, something that looked suitable for someone spending the evening home alone, but had a slight sex-appeal to it as well. It smelled from being shut away for so long, so I cast my best freshening charms on it and changed. Connell wouldn't care if I was naked or dressed in a paper bag. But he always preferred the former, so I felt it couldn't hurt to look nice.

As I scrutinised myself in the mirror, I doubted any of the Order members realised what I was getting myself into. I wasn't going to plan or lead with it, but experience told me that I would have no choice. It was just what happened when you visited Connell.

After adjusting the neckline of my blouse, I decided it was as good as it was going to get, and went over to kneel in front of the hearth. Tossing Floo powder into the flames, it turned green and I stuck my head in, requesting Connell's home. My head spun and I glimpsed only a handful of strange rooms, before settling on a slightly familiar kitchen.

It hadn't changed much since I had last been there, except that it had been cream coloured back then, and now it was a rich blue. Through the open kitchen door, I spotted him on his couch, lounging backwards with his feet on the table and a newspaper in his lap. He was wearing only a Muggle style shorts.

"Are you home, Connell?" I called out.

His head snapped up and looked in my direction. A smile spread across his lips as he saw who it was. "Well well well... Long time, no see!" He tossed the newspaper onto the table and stood up to walk over. The shorts hung low on his hips and his skin had a slight tan. Despite my best efforts, something stirred between my legs. "What brings you to the heart of my fire?" he asked, smirking slightly.

"I don't know," I replied. "Just felt like hanging out tonight. See what you've been up to lately. Like you said, long time, no see. Unless it's too late and you're going to bed?"

"Oh, I was just about to go to bed, yes. But I had no plans of _sleeping_ yet. You're welcome to join me." He bent down, sitting on his heels.

This was exactly what I was afraid of.

Back when I started at Azkaban, I had met Connell, and he had been so irresistibly charming and dangerously sexy, I couldn't help but fall in lust with him. We had slept together several times over the course of the following year until I met Frederick. "Honestly, Connell. Is that all you ever think about?" I asked jokingly.

"Of course. Shall I take that as a no?"

"I'm not here to sleep with you. I just want to spend time with a friend."

The grin on his face told me didn't agree with that. "Fine then," he said. "Come on through."

Carefully, I stood up and felt the rest of my body spin around to join its head. The moment all of me stood in the dying green flames, Connell pulled me to him and hugged me. It was not a hug between friends, because he pressed himself into me and had one hand on my head and the other dangerously low on my back.

"Good to see you too," I said, my voice muffled against his naked chest. His laugh vibrated through me, and I carefully pulled away. We settled onto the couch and he summoned a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"You don't have any Butterbeer?" I asked.

"You're serious about no sex tonight?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Yes," I replied firmly.

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded. "Okay then. Still, have _one_ glass of wine, for old times' sake." Without waiting for an answer, he poured blue nettle wine into the two glasses and handed one to me. "To friends," he said as we toasted. "With benefits."

"To _friends_," I said firmly and took a small sip, glancing at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was a nine. I had an hour and a half.

We fell into a casual conversation and soon our glasses were refilled. I asked him about his latest conquests, and he gladly shared stories about the women he had seduced since last time. He was very much himself still. A guy that loved women, sex, and good drinks. While I found that working at Azkaban turned wizards off me, witches seemed to be completely attracted to wizards working there. I guess it made them seem dangerous and mysterious.

I was surprised to hear that Connell had been with the same girl for two months this spring. That was the good thing about him. He never had two or more women at the same time. And if he found one he liked, he stayed with her. He just rarely found anyone he wanted to spend more than a night or two with. As far as I knew, his longest 'relationship' had been with me. Though he'd had a couple of others in between that year. Connell and I had two months hot passion, and then he wandered for a while. Then I came back to him for a few weeks before I left, thinking this kind of relationship was bad for me. But every once in a while, he came back for more. It got more and more frequent, and soon we were in lust again. Then I met Frederick, and promptly ended it with Connell. Even though we did meet up on occasion, we had never gone further than lots of gasping and groping under the clothes.

When I grew tired of hearing about his women, I felt it was safe to ask about work. By now, we had each had three glasses of nettle wine, and somehow I was sitting in the crook of his arm, leaning against his bare chest. We shared work experiences for a while, until I asked if he had heard about a Dementor attack somewhere south of London.

"Attack? That can't be right. Why would Fudge attack someone?"

"Fudge? So someone took Dementors out today?" I twisted in my seat a little to look at him. There was a dark stubble on his chin and I longed to feel it against my cheek, or scratching against my thighs.

"Someone from the Ministry came for five Dementors today, with an order from the Minister for a bodyguard on some meeting he was going to."

"What kind of meeting would warrant the guard of _five_ Dementors?"

"Don't know," he shrugged and somehow I slid closer to him with the movement. "But that was all they were supposed to do – guard Fudge."

"Then why would two of them attack someone outside of London?"

"Where did you hear this?"

"Someone said it in passing as I left the office today. I worked overtime, and went to the cafeteria to get a quick dinner before I left. I think it was someone from Improper Use of Magic that mentioned it." Everything I just said was a lie, but the attack had happened late and since Harry had done magic, I felt it was safe to say I had heard it from someone in that office.

"It's strange that Fudge would need five guards, like you said," he stroked the exposed skin on my arm, making me shiver, "but I can't understand that he would order them to attack anyone."

"I must have heard wrong," I concluded, not daring to discuss it anymore. Glancing at the clock, it struck ten. I needed to wrap this up and get back to headquarters soon.

The incredible sticky warmth from the day hung in the air around us and I felt drowsy against Connell's toasty naked skin. His deep breaths moved my body in a gentle, soothing rocking motion.

"Hey, we've talked about me all evening. What've you been up to lately? Any hot wizards in your life?"

I chuckled as I pictured the male population of the Order. One convict, one werewolf, and mostly old or married men. "Not so much," I said bitterly. "I've focused on work. And I like it that way." Despite what I said, I found that my hand wandered to his thigh, and I felt his skin burn me through the thin fabric.

"No relief what so ever?" Connell asked, his voice taking on a deeper quality.

"Only at my own hands."

"And is that enough?" he whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my neck.

"More than enough," I replied, leaning into him. "I'm quite capable."

He sniggered against my cheek, and the stubble on his face scratched deliciously. "But I think a change of scenery might do me good for tonight," I said as I came to a decision. I slid my hand quickly from his thigh and backwards, grabbing him. He groaned into my shoulder. I squeezed again, just to hear that sound, but found myself being flipped around instead. Landing on my back on the seat of the couch, Connell hovered above me. He hated it whenever I tried taking control from him like that.

He took both my hands and secured them above my head, then pushed my legs apart. And typical of him, he reached up my skirt and was inside my knickers before I had the chance to react. I gasped in pleasure.

"I missed that," he said huskily. I arched towards his hand and struggled against his hold on my arms, needing to get my clothes off, but he held me tighter, continuing to pleasure me.

I peaked suddenly, but it was quick and not very intense. Needing more, I lifted my feet and put them at his hips, attempting to push his shorts down. Connell chuckled and complied. He let go of me and stood to undress. The fabric fell to the floor and I couldn't help but stare and lick my lips at the sight that met me.

"See, but not touch yet," Connell said. He set one knee on the couch, pushed one of my legs to hang off the side, leaned his hands on either side of me, and got into position. All the while he spoke explicitly about what he was going to do to me. Until – finally – he was there. I threw my head back and yelped.

He didn't move. While I was no stranger to getting what I needed on my own, it had been very long since I'd been with a real man, and it was both pain and pleasure at the same time. But my body recognised him quickly, and I had no patience for this gentle moment of reacquainting. Moving my hips to urge him on, he only took it excruciatingly slow. It seemed he wanted to enjoy this and take his time. Which would have been fine by me, except I was in a hurry and gentle lovemaking was not our style together.

But he was steadfast. In fact, he locked my hands above my head again. "Patience, darling," he whispered amusedly and reached a hand under my blouse and found the way inside my bra. Sparks flew from my chest and my eyes fluttered close.

"Now, stop with the bloody lovemaking, and get on with it." He loved dirty talk, and I always used it to get my way.

"Not like this, love." He flipped me over, and was back again before I could blink. Then he paused, and leaned over my back. "Like this, love," he whispered.

Slowly, he went on, reminiscing about everything we had done all those years ago. Each memory flashed clear as day before my eyes, making my skin crawl deliciously. I ordered him to finally grant me my wish. My arms buckled under me and the couch muffled my moans. The unmistakable sound of skin against skin bounced off the walls.

Connell groaned out words that no mother would want their daughter to hear, words that made everything that much better. When I felt his control finally leaving, he fell forwards, both of us seeing flashes before our eyes.

It was several long seconds before either of us moved or spoke. "You are good," Connell mumbled into my back.

"Likewise," I breathed and collapsed fully on the couch. Connell straightened up, lifted my legs and sat down under them.

We both took some time getting our breaths back, revelling in our release. Then suddenly Connell asked a question that nearly blew me away. "I have a feeling this was only a onetime thing? You're not coming back for this regularly, are you?" There was a hint of regret in his voice that would have me fall over in astonishment, had I not already been flat out on my stomach.

I turned my head to avoid muffling my reply. "I'm sorry, Connell," I said quietly. "I don't know what came over me tonight, but no – I won't come back regularly for this. I'm sorry."

He was silent for a while, all I could hear was his still settling breath while he absentmindedly stroked circles with his index finger on back of my legs. "No worries," he said eventually. "But, you know where to find me should you ever find your own hands lacking." He slapped me playfully on my bum, and I couldn't help but giggle – a very not-me kind of sound.

"What time is it?" I muttered and turned around to find his wall clock. It was ten to eleven. I fought the urge to scramble to my feet and leave in a hurry. Instead, I stood up and began gathering and repairing my clothes. "I should get home. There's a lot to do at the office tomorrow, I want to get an early start." It was true, there _was_ a lot to do. We'd had several deaths that week that needed both the proper paperwork done and all the other arrangements with family and burials. And if it was true that two Dementors had gone rogue on a mission for the Minister...

"I'll probably stop by the office on Monday to pick up the copies needed for the funeral homes coming to pick up the bodies."

"Such an uplifting job we have, right?" I smiled sadly.

"Someone has to do it."

"Good night, Connell. Thanks for tonight. Hanging out and..." I raised one eyebrow and smirked.

"Any time, love." Connell didn't even bother getting up from the couch, sitting there naked from his waist down and sweaty. "Good night."

I swept from the sitting room, feeling slightly bruised as I moved. I didn't Floo back home, but Disapparated from outside Connell's flat. I wanted to go home for a shower first, but being so late, I Apparated to the front steps of headquarters, cast several charms on myself, and headed inside.

The house was silent when I entered and I thought that maybe they had all left. But as I entered the kitchen, most were there still. Molly was doing the dishes, Arthur nodded off in his chair, Sirius was sipping a glass of what looked like Firewhiskey, Remus was reading a book, and Kingsley and Tonks were deep in a whispered conversation. Only Albus was missing, but as soon as I closed the door, it opened again and he strode in.

"Sorry I'm late," I told him and got the attention of the rest of the room. Some looked strangely at me, and as I looked down I realised I had forgotten to change from my casual-but-sexy outfit.

"Did you find out what happened tonight?" he asked.

"Yes – to some extent."

"Then it doesn't matter if you're late." He smiled quickly, and then moved to his usual seat at the head of the table. I found an empty chair between Remus and Tonks, and opposite Sirius. As I sat, Remus sent me a curious sidelong glance, his nostrils flaring. I avoided his gaze and focused on Albus. Everyone settled down around the table and I was asked to report my findings.

Forcing down my embarrassment that Remus might smell what I had been up to, not to mention the paranoid feeling of it being written across my face, I explained. "Someone from the Minister's office was there today, requesting five Dementors as a guard for a meeting Fudge was going to. I don't know who it was from the Ministry, or what the meeting was about, but apparently Fudge needed a guard. It is possible that two of them went out of their way, but no matter how much I mistrust Fudge, I can't believe he would send two of them away to attack Harry."

"I can easily find out tomorrow morning if this if correct," Kingsley said. "The Aurors keep tabs on whenever someone requests for Dementors."

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "This someone from the Minister's office may have requested for more Dementors that Fudge really needed, or someone was posing as a Ministry official," he mused. "The latter is the most probably answer."

I took a deep breath, annoyed at the continuing revelation of routines that we needed to sharpen at Azkaban. Forging a proof of identification from the Ministry was difficult, but not impossible. And that was the only thing we checked. We didn't check for Polyjuice Potion or Glamour Charms, or any kind of disguise, magical and non-magical. But _bloody hell_, all our routines had been enough for centuries!

"_That's_ all you got after nearly three hours?" Sirius asked suddenly from the other side of the table. I glanced up at him, and saw a slight crooked smile on his face. I felt my skin burn with embarrassment, and I was sure _he_ at least realised and saw what I had done that evening.

"I felt it was safer to make it like any other social call," I replied, forcing my blush down. "It's possible that no one knows that Dementors were out to attack today, all they know at the Ministry is that Harry has done magic. How could I have known about it? I pretended to have overheard something in the cafeteria while getting some dinner after working late. So I made it a social call and slipped it into the conversation."

"My kind of social call," he muttered with a raised eyebrow, but Albus continued to theorise as if he hadn't been interrupted. Beside me, Remus chuckled quietly, and I dearly wished for a hole in the floor.

The meeting settled not long after. Albus would act as Harry's defence during the hearing the following week, and we would all see each other in three days for the scheduled meeting after the Advance Guard had picked Harry up from his aunt and uncle. I wanted to rush from the house, but Sirius called my name as the others ascended the stairs.

"Have fun tonight?" he asked, grinning wickedly.

I forced down the blush. "It was alright," I said as calmly as I could. "See you later, alright?" Without waiting for an answer, I rushed up, out and home.

* * *

_Authors Note_

_I am terribly sorry this took so very long to get out. This chapter kind of went out of hand as I wrote it, and I debated whether or not to ditch the intimate part of it or not, deciding in the end it would be a nice contrast to the "relationship" she has with Remus soon. Then I struggled to make it more tasteful and in line with the sound of the story, and then I struggled to censor it for HPFF and FF so that it still kept the feel of the chapter. Not to mention there have been tons of other things I have wanted to do other than write. So there you go._

_But here it is, and I hope I have succeeded in creating an okay chapter. As always, PM me for the uncensored version. But I warn you, if you do, you might want to close the curtains, lock the doors and make sure you're alone ;)_

_Review? :)_

_Until next time._


End file.
